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COMMODO // DEFT 1s [DEFT 1s SGL, 2022]
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Birds Sing Anew After Residents of New Orleans Ninth Ward Restore 40-Acre Wetland to Historic Glory https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/birds-sing-anew-from-within-40-acre-wetland-restored-by-residents-of-n-orleans-historic-lower-ninth/
The Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans has recently witnessed an incredible eco-renaissance following decades of damage and neglect.
Led by a local community development group, a 40-acre wetlands park has been restored to glories past with hundreds of local trees that attract over a hundred species of birds, plus joggers, picnickers, and nature lovers besides.
The story begins with Rashida Ferdinand, founder of Sankofa Community Development Corporation (CDC). Growing up in this historic part of New Orleans, where Black homeownership thrived, where Fats Domino was born, and where locals routinely went out into the wetlands to catch fish and crustaceans, she watched as it suffered from years of neglect.
Poor drainage, ruined roads, illegal trash dumping, and unmitigated damage from hurricanes slowly wasted the wetland away until it was a derelict eyesore.
In the name of restoring this wild heritage indicative of the culture in the Lower Ninth, and in order to protect her communities from flooding, Ferdinand founded the Sankofa CDC, and in 2014 entered into an agreement with the City of New Orleans for the restoration of Sankofa—a 40-acre section of neglected wetlands in the heart of the Lower Ninth.
The loss of Sankofa’s potential to dampen flooding from storms meant that over the years dozens of houses and properties were flooded and damaged beyond the ability of the inhabitants to recover. Forced out by a combination of nature’s fury and government failure, the cultural heritage of the community was receding along with the floodwaters.
Ferdinand knew that restoring natural flood barriers like Sankofa was key to protecting her community.
“Hurricane protection is a major concern in the community, but there’s a lack of trust in the infrastructure systems that are supposed to protect us,” Ferdinand told the Audubon Society.
Today, Sankofa Wetlands Park is a sight to behold. Hiking trails snake through a smattering of ponds and creeks, where bald cypresses and water tupelo trees continue to grow and cling to the ground even during storms. Picnic benches have appeared, wheelchair-accessible trails connect sections of the park to parts of the Lower Ninth, and local businesses are seeing more visitors.
Visiting birders have recorded sightings of over 100 species of songbirds, ducks, near-shore waders of all kinds, egrets, and herons, and the park also acts as a home and refuge for otters, beavers, and a variety of amphibians and reptiles.
It needed a lot of work though. Thousands of invasive tallow trees had to be uprooted. 27,000 cubic meters of illegally dumped trash compacted into the dirt had to be removed. A 60-year-old canal dug by the US Army Corps of Engineers had to be disconnected, and all new native flora had to be planted by hand.
Audubon says that Ferdinand routinely can’t believe her eyes when she looks at the transformation of Sankofa into its current state.
“Seeing butterflies, birds, and other pollinators in the park is a sign of a healthy ecosystem,” she says. “All we had to do was create the right conditions.”
Slated for official completion in 2025 with an outdoor amphitheater, interpretive signage, and additional trails, Ferdinand and the CDC have their eyes set on an even larger area of wetlands to the north of Sankofa.
Along the way, Ferdinand and the CDC attracted many helping hands, and entered into many partnerships, But the catalyst for change arose from the spirit and determination of one woman in the right place at the right time, for the benefit of hundreds in this historic heart of a historic city.
#new orleans#good news#environmentalism#science#environment#nature#usa#restoration#rewilding#wetlands#conservation#climate change#climate crisis#animals#birds#trees#disaster prevention and preparedness
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I’m wondering if you have thoughts on James Baldwin’s “open letter to the born again”? I’m struggling a bit with what his point is in that piece; it feels kinda dismissive on Jewish zionists agency in creation of Israel? But I may be missing parts or not getting things
The text in question.
And the segment I think anon is struggling with:
I know what I am talking about: my grandfather never got the promised “forty acres, and a mule,” the Indians who survived that holocaust are either on reservations or dying in the streets, and not a single treaty between the United States and the Indian was ever honored. That is quite a record.
Jews and Palestinians know of broken promises. From the time of the Balfour Declaration (during World War I) Palestine was under five British mandates, and England promised the land back and forth to the Arabs or the Jews, depending on which horse seemed to be in the lead. The Zionists—as distinguished from the people known as Jews—using, as someone put it, the “available political machinery,’’ i.e., colonialism, e.g., the British Empire—promised the British that, if the territory were given to them, the British Empire would be safe forever.
But absolutely no one cared about the Jews, and it is worth observing that non-Jewish Zionists are very frequently anti-Semitic. The white Americans responsible for sending black slaves to Liberia (where they are still slaving for the Firestone Rubber Plantation) did not do this to set them free. They despised them, and they wanted to get rid of them. Lincoln’s intention was not to “free” the slaves but to “destabilize” the Confederate Government by giving their slaves reason to “defect.” The Emancipation Proclamation freed, precisely, those slaves who were not under the authority of the President of what could not yet be insured as a Union.
It has always astounded me that no one appears to be able to make the connection between Franco’s Spain, for example, and the Spanish Inquisition; the role of the Christian church or—to be brutally precise, the Catholic Church—in the history of Europe, and the fate of the Jews; and the role of the Jews in Christendom and the discovery of America. For the discovery of America coincided with the Inquisition, and the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. Does no one see the connection between The Merchant of Venice and The Pawnbroker? In both of these works, as though no time had passed, the Jew is portrayed as doing the Christian’s usurious dirty work. The first white man I ever saw was the Jewish manager who arrived to collect the rent, and he collected the rent because he did not own the building. I never, in fact, saw any of the people who owned any of the buildings in which we scrubbed and suffered for so long, until I was a grown man and famous. None of them were Jews.
And I was not stupid: the grocer and the druggist were Jews, for example, and they were very very nice to me, and to us. The cops were white. The city was white. The threat was white, and God was white, Not for even a single split second in my life did the despicable, utterly cowardly accusation that “the Jews killed Christ’’ reverberate. I knew a murderer when I saw one, and the people who were trying to kilI me were not Jews.
But the state of Israel was not created for the salvation of the Jews; it was created for the salvation of the Western interests. This is what is becoming clear (I must say that it was always clear to me). The Palestinians have been paying for the British colonial policy of “divide and rule” and for Europe’s guilty Christian conscience for more than thirty years.
Finally: there is absolutely—repeat: absolutely—no hope of establishing peace in what Europe so arrogantly calls the Middle East (how in the world would Europe know? having so dismally failed to find a passage to India) without dealing with the Palestinians. The collapse of the Shah of Iran not only revealed the depth of the pious Carter’s concern for “human rights,” it also revealed who supplied oil to Israel, and to whom Israel supplied arms. It happened to be, to spell it out, white South Africa.
Well. The Jew, in America, is a white man. He has to be, since I am a black man, and, as he supposes, his only protection against the fate which drove him to America. But he is still doing the Christian’s dirty work, and black men know it.
My friend, Mr. Andrew Young, out of tremendous love and courage, and with a silent, irreproachable, indescribable nobility, has attempted to ward off a holocaust, and I proclaim him a hero, betrayed by cowards.
For context: Andrew Young, considered the right hand of MLK Jr, had a longstanding and occasionally fraught relationship with the Jewish community. He stepped down from Congress shortly after being forced to choose between voicing support for Palestine and continuing to work towards black-jewish interests by his constituents and fellow politicians, as he felt very strongly about supporting both. This was a fairly unpopular move. While I don't believe he ever called himself Jewish by the strictest sense, he was actively involved in Jewish communities and the known "white" ancestry within him is a Polish Jew in his great grandparents.
To be honest, I don't really see much a problem with this as I think it fairly closely matches up not only with my understanding of the history of this problem but also my own country's part in it as well as my personal feelings on it decades later. It pretty blatantly says that Zionism is utilizing a machination of white supremist colonism due to the extensive history of antisemitism and having had the ancestral land dangled in front of them like bait on a hook from the British Empire, which owned Palestine at the time. It also goes on to say that many Zionists aren't even Jewish and are antisemitic in nature, but are Christians happy to get rid of as many Jews as possible and how that tracks due to the Christian church's millennia-deep history of antisemitism.
I don't think it lets anyone off the hook. I think it pretty much flat out says this is a problem caused first and foremost by white Christians who hate Jews and Arabs alike and have a vested interest in getting the two populations to fight because it'll be easier to kill off just the one group instead of both of them, if one ends up eradicating the other. It even talks about the friction between the black community and the Jewish community, what caused it, what drives it, how that friction in itself is a tool of white supremacy to hurt us both.
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I have never seen a house that makes me feel like I'm losing my mind. It's a conversion, the former headquarters of an Electrical Workers Union local. The 1928 building is in Sheffield, AL, has 4bds, 4ba, $444K. I've never heard of the town, but the description says it's "The Hit Recording Capitol of the World," and near legendary and famed recording studios.
To begin with, the home is located on a fork in the road.
Is it the photography? The place just seems spacey. Of course, they painted it all in gray. I just feel like screaming, I can't take gray houses anymore. Are the floors cement?
If I didn't see the little bits of color, I'd think these photos were black & white. This kitchen is huge.
There's a large stainless industrial sink. This kitchen was probably here and they painted the old oak cabinets black.
Trippy double halls to the bedrooms. Notice the way the floorboards go.
The bedrooms are boxy and plain.
They've got original doors w/windows.
This was the large meeting/event room.
Twin baths.
When the description said spiral stairs, I didn't expect them to be down in the basement.
There's an industrial sink and a toilet down here.
Part of the 1.18 acre lot is fenced to make a yard.
It looks like there used to be another building on the property.
Looks like they made a driveway going to that area, for parking.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3325-N-Jackson-Hwy-Sheffield-AL-35660/343977469_zpid/
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The Best News of Last Week - May 15, 2023
🐕 - Now It's a Paw-ty
1. World's oldest ever dog celebrates 31st birthday
Bobi was born on 11 May 1992, making him 31 years old, in human years. A big birthday party is planned for Bobi today, according to Guinness World Records.
It will take place at his home in the rural Portuguese village of Conqueiros in Leiria, western Portugal, where he has lived his entire life.
2. The FDA has officially changed its policy to allow more gay and bisexual men to donate blood
The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has announced that they’ve eased restrictions on blood donations by men who have sex with men in an effort to address blood shortages. The new policy recommends a series of individual risk-based questions that will apply to all donors, regardless of their sexual orientation, sex, or gender. Gay or bisexual men in monogamous relationships will now be permitted to donate blood.
3. Illinois passes bill to ensure community college credits transfer to public universities
The Illinois General Assembly has passed a bill that would help community college students transfer to public universities.
It would ensure that certain classes taken at community colleges could be transferred to any higher education institution in the state. Some schools currently only count community college coursework as elective credits.
4. Brazilian President Lula recognizes 6 new indigenous territories stretching 620,000 hectares, banning mining and restricting farming within them
Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva has decreed six new indigenous reserves, banning mining and restricting commercial farming there. The lands - including a vast area of Amazon rainforest - cover about 620,000 hectares (1.5m acres).
Indigenous leaders welcomed the move, but said more areas needed protection.
5. More than 1,000 trafficking victims rescued in separate operations in Southeast Asia
More than 1,000 trafficking victims were rescued in separate operations in Southeast Asia over the last week, officials in Indonesia and the Philippines said.
Indonesian officials said Sunday they freed 20 of their nationals who were trafficked to Myanmar as part of a cyber scam, amid an increase in human trafficking cases in Southeast Asia. Fake recruiters had offered the Indonesians high-paying jobs in Thailand but instead trafficked them to Myawaddy, about 567 kilometers (352 miles) south of Naypyidaw, the capital, to perform cyber scams for crypto websites or apps, said Judha Nugraha, an official in Indonesia's Foreign Affairs Ministry.
6. A peanut allergy patch is making headway in trials
An experimental “peanut patch” is showing some promise for toddlers who are highly allergic to peanuts. The patch, called Viaskin, was tested on children ages one to three for a late-stage trial, and the results show that the patch helped children whose bodies could not tolerate even a small piece of peanuts safely eat a few.
After one year, two-thirds of the children who used the patch and one-third of the placebo group met the trial’s primary endpoint. The participants with a less sensitive peanut allergy could safely tolerate the peanut protein equivalent of eating three or four peanuts.
7. Critically endangered lemur born at Calgary Zoo
The Calgary Zoo has released pictures of its newest addition, a baby lemur. The zoo says its four-year-old female black-and-white ruffed lemur, Eny, gave birth on April 7. The pup’s father is eight-year-old Menabe. The gender of the pup has not been confirmed but the Calgary Zoo says the pup appears bright-eyed and active and is on the move.
The black-and-white ruffed lemur is registered among the 25 most endangered primates in the world, due mostly to habitat loss and hunting.
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That's it for this week :)
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Title: cosmic (a jason todd x reader fic)
Chapter II of ???
Rating: 18+ (eventual smut, language, violence i guess, and mention of past abuse)
Tw: abuse, violence, and smut.
Summary:
y/n meets dick and barbara, who try to set y/n up with dick’s big little brother.
ao3
note: i will be primarily posting on ao3 since tumblr is not working for me lol
The taxi stopped at the bottom of the hill before the great gates at Wayne Manor.
“I’m not allowed past this point, Miss.” the driver said. “Judge’s orders.”
Y/n nodded as she removed seventy dollars from her wallet and pushed it past the slot on the bottom of the glass divider, leaving the cab and shutting its door behind her.
Before entering the manor, y/n stuck out like a sore thumb: it wasn’t a black tie gala, but the attire was more formal than y/n was anticipating, with women wearing sumptuous dresses that complemented their bodies, and men wearing sharp suits. Y/n contemplated hailing the cab back down to return her back home, but decided against it when she locked eyes with Barbara, who was finished shaking hands with a political figure in Gotham. “Y/n!” she called, promptly walking toward y/n wearing a long, gold dress with a square neckline, and her copper hair down and flowing. “I’m so glad you can make it. I love the skirt you’re wearing!”
Y/n blushed as she looked down at her attire: a black button down tucked underneath a redwood pencil skirt. She reached out her arm for a handshake, but was taken by a hug from Barbara instead. “Thank you. You look incredible.” Y/n smiled. “Am I too late?”
Barbara shook her head. “Fashionably on time, I’ll say. Do you want me to introduce you to the criminologist? Or do you prefer a different sector of the department?” She glanced over her shoulder, as if to let y/n in on a secret. “Or do you want to meet Dick’s younger brother?”
This was the third time Barbara mentioned Dick’s brother to y/n, and although intrigued, y/n already had done her research: according to public records, Dick doesn’t technically have a brother, so who was this mystery man?
Yet y/n was hesitant, and instead wanted to meet the criminologist; after all, Gotham was a safe haven from her past, and all she wanted to do was gain speed on her career. “Let’s meet the criminologist.”
Barbara frowned, but respected y/n’s wishes, anyway, showing her to the inside of Wayne Manor. Inside, it was dimensionally transcendental - despite the exterior being over two acres, even the foyer itself was deemed bigger than y/n’s shared one bedroom flat. “So, y/n,” Barbara began, tossing her hair onto her other shoulder, “this is lead criminologist Dr. Ashanti Ludwis. Dr. Ludwis, this is y/n…”
“Y/n y/l/n, pleasure to meet you.” Y/n extended her hand to shake, which Dr. Ludwis took. “Commissioner Gordon has told me about you.”
“Yep! Y/n here is a graduate of NYU with a major in criminology, and she is eager to gain experience wherever it is needed, right, y/n?”
Y/n nodded, her hair bouncing. “Yes. I did not disclose this with Commissioner Gordon, but I did graduate with a double minor as well, and I am certified bilingual, if appropriate.”
Dr. Ludwis gave y/n an unreadable look. “Very well. If you would like to pursue this, you do know that this isn’t a fairytale, fiction-driven type of career, yes?” Her accent was thick, each word ending in an emphasis of its last sound. Y/n relished the information, nodding along as Dr. Ludwis informed her of the process. “Okay. If you would like to join my team, I do have an opening for apprenticeship; however, it is only paid at eighteen dollars an hour, and you do not have benefits until nine months, around when you will complete your examination to determine eligibility to become a member of the GPD. Is that understood?”
“Crystal clear.” Y/n nodded once, her hands folded in front of her. “If I have any questions about the apprenticeship, where should I direct them?”
“Commissioner Gordon has my contact information and will forward them to you, correct?”
“Correct, Doctor.” Barbara agreed.
“Good. Well it was a pleasure meeting you, Miss y/n, and please, enjoy the party. Do not get wrapped up in the nonsense of the elites.” She directed her eyes to a gathering of people in a group, all wearing luxury brand articles of clothing. After motioning her salutation, Dr. Ludwis disappeared back into the crowd of lavish attendees, leaving y/n with Barbara, who was chatting with a police officer.
“I need to use the restroom, if it’s okay.” y/n whispered to Barbara.
“Oh yeah, there’s plenty if you go that way.” Barbara lifted her chin in the direction of one of the hallways, dimly lit and leading off into an unknown area. Nervous, y/n made her way toward the hallway, before being promptly stopped by Dick.
“Hey, y/n, party’s this way.” he grinned warmly.
“I just have to use the restroom…” y/n trailed sheepishly.
“Oh.” Dick blinked, as if he had never heard of a woman having to use the restroom before, “Y-yeah, of course, yeah. Uh, where’s he…Alfred! Excuse me, Alfred?” Dick began searching around, straightening his posture to overlook the crowd before spotting someone. “Excuse me, Alfred, could you please show Ms. y/n to the restroom?” he pointed to y/n. “Y/n, this is Alfred, Bruce Wayne’s personal assistant. He will direct you to the restroom safely, okay?” Dick patted y/n’s back before heading back to converse with Commissioner Gordon.
“Hi, Mr. Alfred, thank you.” y/n grinned as Alfred showed her away from the gala, the noise of chatter subsiding with each step.
“You can just call me Alfred, Miss. y/n, but thank you.” he replied, turning his head to meet y/n’s eyes with a friendly gaze. “Mr. Grayson thought it was best that you were directed to the lavatory, as this is your first time visiting Wayne Manor, yes?”
Y/n nodded. “That’s correct.”
She followed Alfred past the library and near the conservatory, where a bathroom was hidden as a cabinet. Alfred pushed into the center of the panel, which disengaged the lock and opened the hidden door. “There is a button on the underside of the toilet for emergencies,” Alfred informed. “Do you need me to stay nearby, or are you able to retrace your steps?”
“I can find my way back, Sir, thank you.” y/n replied before stepping into the bathroom and locking the door, amazed at the cleanliness of the unit, its bright color scheme a stark difference from the gothic theme just on the other side of the door. She looked around the corners of the room for security cameras, and placed her finger on the mirror to determine whether or not it was a two-way mirror, watching her reflection ‘touch’ the tip of her real finger.
After ending her security check of the bathroom, y/n used it, and remained in the bathroom for a few minutes after washing her hands to calm her nerves. Y/n wasn’t used to formal outings after her departure from New York; she felt disdain toward it, and wondered if her vocational future in Gotham would revolve around such pompous activities, or if it was less frequent.
Upon leaving the bathroom (and struggling to re-secure the hideaway part of the panel), y/n headed back up the corridor toward the commotion, but stopped at a pair of long, slim walnut doors with gold engraving similar to the walls beside them. Hoping it was a balcony, y/n quietly opened the door and stepped out, finding herself near a bronze guided ledge rail.
This was it: y/n made it outside past the noise of the elite, past the imminent danger she felt since her time in New York - it was almost as if she closed the door to it behind her, and all y/n was left with was her self and the outdoors, freedom from the pains of her youth.
She stared at the crash of the waves of water on the cliff below her, and breathed in sync with the waves: inhale, rise; exhale, crash. Y/n was encompassed by the sense of calm she felt, her guard down, completely unaware of the man now staring at her from inside the manor.
Finally, y/n let her shoulders slump, fixing her pencil skirt from any dirt or water debris collected from the cliffside. Before turning around to head back into the party, she said her goodbye to the cold night that accompanied her, wondering if it would be the last time she would hear the crashing waves.
Reaching for the door handle, y/n found that someone else already opened it for her, as her eyes met with the man’s chest, before looking up at his face. The man was staring at her with an intense gaze, impossible to detect what he was feeling about her, and it made y/n anxious.
“You know, there’s no way to get back in on your own.” He said, voice low and matter-of-fact. “I’d know - I’ve been here plenty of times.”
Opening her mouth, y/n wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t find herself to utter a single letter, let alone groups of them. “You know, a thank you would suffice.” the man added, tone almost combative, as a corner of his mouth turned up to a smirk.
It was the eyes. Y/n’s stare worked itself from the man’s red button up, to his long neck, all the way up to his chin, and the scar on his cheek, the tissue telling that the injury was clean like a blade or knife. Then, y/n’s gaze met the man’s, and she was locked in - his eyes were intense, of course, but there was the calling; the gray streaks in his irises were barbed wires, and the green was the earthy comfort he felt deep down.
Or maybe y/n was reading too much into a stranger. “Sorry, thanks. I didn’t mean to…excuse me, I must be going.” y/n focused her eyes onto the ground, avoiding eye contact with the man as she hurried past him and back up the corridor to the gathering, where she found Barbara and Dick talking together.
“Hey, Barbara, Dick, I really appreciate you two inviting me, but I think I should get going.”
“Get going?” Dick furrowed his brows. “What for? Are you okay? Something happen?”
Barbara gently placed her hand on Dick’s shoulder, stopping the ensemble of questions stumbling out of his mouth. “That’s fine, y/n. Thank you for coming. Did we forget to give you our contact info?”
“Yeah, I completely forgot about that.” y/n admitted.
Barbara reached into her clutch and pulled out a paper and pen, writing down her phone number, then Dick’s, before handing it to y/n. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. You could stop by the headquarters, but I doubt you want to be around the police that much.”
“That makes two of us.” A voice said behind y/n, slightly startling her.
#mine#my post#jason todd#robin#batfamily#red hood#dc#dcu#nightwing#jason todd x reader#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd smut
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You're Mine Now
A/N: Let me know if I should make a part 2, guys. 🥰
Summary: After Mickey was shot, he left the college and became a hitman. His newest target? You. But he didn't want to kill you, so he decided to take you and make you his.
Mickey Altieri x Reader
Warnings: smut, dark, Mickey's POV, unsavory language, Stockholm syndrome, a dash of daddy kink, talks about murder
(this pic gave the inspo, actually)
Mickey had the foresight to escape after Mrs. Loomis shot him, he wanted to kill the bitch but she was finished off so he was fine. He got all of the money he had access from the bank account before it was closed by the police, so he was able to get by for a couple of years. He went back to the forums where he met Mrs Loomis so he started killing people for hire, it was quickly paying off quickly, he was able to be completely underground and it was great, getting paid for doing what you love.
It has been years now, Mickey was in a routine now. His fees were astronomical because he was the best of what he did, and he made no excuses about it, his only rule was no children, even murderous psychopaths had a line, and that was Mickey’s. Usually his customers were powerful men not wanting to deal with prenups, competitors in their fields, or simply people that pissed them off and that allowed him to walk around the higher circles and Mickey loves the finer things in life, so is a win win situation.
Mickey now was about to meet with a potential client, now he only accepts new customers through referrals, so it doesn’t blow back on him. Only now with all of his security measures in place, Mickey realises in how much danger he was by just accepting random anonymous messages, young and dumb as they say. The building was in a high end hotel, Mickey knew the owner so he knows that every recording of him is prompted deleted. He was wearing his signature full black tailored suit, Mickey was a silver fox now, he was glad that between balding and going gray, it was the latter for him.
“Mr. Wadsworth, how do you do?” The man was probably the same age as Mickey but he was in a disgusting shape, balding and a huge gut, it disgusted Mickey to no end. He took great pride in his appearance, he never understood why other people didn't.
“Mr…I didn't catch your name?” His voice was annoying, Mickey thought, definitely won’t be a regular client.
“That is because I didn't give it to you, shall we?” Mickey motioned for him to sit, which Mr. Wadsworth did. “So, what is the sensitive matter that would like me to handle?” Mickey was always adamant about using vague language, nothing that would look bad on a court reading, was his motto.
“I want a permit for drilling oil but the land is protected by law, there is one senator that is blocking it, I simply need him to have a family emergency, him not being around wouldn’t be good for business.” Mickey laughed, at least he had the foresight to know that getting rid of the only senator blocking his progress would be idiotic, you’d be surprised how many people able to afford a hitman are dumb to target the most obvious person.
“Great, who would be causing the family emergency?” The man passed Mickey the folder, he didn't look at it, Mickey was always adamant about doing his own research.
“It needs to be done before next month.” Mickey nodded and got up from his seat, this man was incredibly dull so he couldn’t wait to leave.
“I know my schedule, transfer half of the money and you’ll hear from me after is done.” They shook hands and Mickey went to his hotel room, it was where he preferred to work. Mickey had a house with way too many acres but he was barely there, if he was being honest it wasn’t conductive to business and it was lonely. Mickey always had one night stands, he hated (loved) to brag but getting women was not an issue for him at all, but an actual relationship? Not likely.
He opened the folder and he saw a photo of the target, the daughter of the senator, you. Seeing your photo made Mickey stop, what a fucking waste, he thought. You were fucking hot, he thought about maybe seducing you and then kill you but would that be enough? Mickey started reading about you, it was comical how much younger you were from Mickey, he was old enough to be his daughter, in his fucked up mind Mickey being so much older than you got him excited.
You were in university, no boyfriend made Mickey smile, from the files it seems as if you were a bit of a loner. He was going to start stalking you and to get close to you, and see how is the best way to do his job. Mickey finished reading your files and went to bed, he was painfully hard now, he simply decided to ignore it and focus on his task, you.
Mickey thought it was way too early, but apparently you woke up that early to go to the library, then your favourite local coffee shop. He got to the library before you, and then you entered the store, it was summer so you were wearing a blue summer dress, Mickey thought you looked delicious. You said hi to the worker and was getting closer to where he was, which was the classics. Mickey was now in character, pretending to ponder on which book to choose, he sighed and that got your attention.
“Hey, sorry to bother you but do you need help?” You tapped him on the shoulder and when Mickey turned to you he wanted to laugh at your reaction, your mouth was open it was clear as day that you found him attractive, that was always made the job much easier.
“It is that obvious that I need help?” Mickey let out a fake embarrassed laugh, it was easy to act like a dork sometimes, Mickey thought.
“Well, no. But you are holding one of my favourites and I need to know why you haven’t chosen it yet.” You were behaving like a school girl with a crush, the giggling, the hand on your face to hide the embarrassment, Mickey thought it was extremely cute.
“It’s for my niece, she just started university and I want to give her a nice gift. Do you think that should I just bite the bullet and buy both?” He gave you his million dollar smile and he could see you melting, you were adorable.
“If you can, I would. Especially if she’s a book worm like me.” You laughed again, and Mickey could see that you couldn’t hold eye contact him and he loved it.
“I can’t believe that you are a book worm, how can such a beautiful woman like you be buried in books? I guess that you have the beauty and the brains, then?” You touched Mickey’s arm while laughing, he got closer to you and you did too.
“You are too kind, sir.” Mickey took a deep breath, you calling him sir being so close to him was making him incredibly hard.
“I’m Mickey, by the way.” He extended his hand for you to shake it and you introduced yourself. Your whole demeanor, voice and body was intoxicating for Mickey, he wanted you, not just for one night, he wanted you to be his forever. “I know this is probably too much too soon but…would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?” He looked at you with a smirk, you looked so flustered and Mickey loved every second of it.
“Yes, there’s a coffee shop that I love.” You and Mickey went to the counter and he paid for both books, he could tell that you were admiring him, his suit, the way Mickey carried himself, he could tell that you enjoyed everything about him.
“Shall we? My car is parked right out front.” Mickey’s hand went on your lower back, he could tell that you enjoyed the contact, getting to the door he made sure to open the door for you. He did the same with his car door, his car was spacious and he could tell that you liked it. “You’re gonna have to guide me, because I moved here a couple months back and I still don’t know my way around it.” The two of you smiled and you were more than happy to give him directions to the coffee shop.
Getting there Mickey could tell that people were staring at him, it was a regular occurrence but he could tell that it was a bit weird for you, so he made sure to be touching you at all times, Mickey pulled the chair out for you and acted like the perfect gentleman for you, he was proud on that fact.
“So, what do you do for a living Mickey?” He could tell that you were nervous, afraid of saying the wrong thing and mess it up but that wouldn’t happen with Mickey to smooth out any situation.
“Consulting, they pay an obscene amount of money to put out their fires.” It was true, his killing rates were astronomical, and he did what he loved. “What about you, sweetheart?” You giggled like a schoolgirl and tried to cover it up with a cough, Mickey tought it was the sweetest thing ever.
“I’m in university at the moment, but I still have no idea what I’m going to do…maybe you can teach me more about consulting?” Mickey could see the attempt of trying to get his number and he smiled.
“I’d be more than happy to teach you anything you want, sweetheart.” Mickey put his hand on yours and you looked at it and he saw how your breathing changed, oh you were horny, Mickey thought to himself.
“I’d like that.” You said in a breathy voice and Mickey knew you were a goner.
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After your first date, Mickey made sure to take your contact details and he was now a staple in your life. He was the first person you called when you had anything going on in your life, and it has only been a week. Mickey on the other hand was utterly obsessed with you, and he already that he wasn’t going to kill you and that you were going to be with him for the rest of your life. He already had everything ready, and he made sure to destroy the life of the man that wanted you dead and if you were with him, no one would try to kill you because of your father ever again.
Mickey went to the restaurant to meet you, today was the day that he was going to make you his fully. His house was already set for you to be there, no work for a while to pay full attention to you, Mickey never felt this way before, and he wasn’t going to give up on you, he owned you, it was only a matter of time for you to find out.
“How are you, sweetheart?” You went to Mickey and kissed him, and he took advantage of that and put the drug on your drink.
“I’m great, I can’t wait for you to meet my parents.” Mickey smiled, another reason why he wanted to take you away, not having to meet your parents.
“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you started talking about other things, and you started getting a bit sleepy. “Are you okay, baby?” Mickey looked so concerned, it almost looked real.
“Yeah, yeah…just a bit tired.” You yawned and Mickey asked for the check, the drug was going to knock you out in a few minutes.
“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” He paid with cash, as always and guided you to his car. As soon as you got there, sleep took over you.
Mickey started driving, he made the point of not initiating any intimacy with you, he wanted you fully comfortable with him. He looked at your exposed legs and Mickey caressed it, your skin was so smooth, he felt like a goddamn teenager, getting hard just by feeling your leg. He focused on the road, otherwise he would start fucking you before you woke up.
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When Mickey arrived with you still asleep it was evening, he took you out of the car and carried you to his house. House was an understatement, it was a mansion but Mickey hated to brag. He had a bedroom ready for you, it didn't open from the inside, he knew that you were going to freak out for a couple of days and he needed to break you in.
He decorated the bedroom in a way that he knew you would enjoy, he put you on the bed and left. Watching you on the camera, Mickey grabbed a beer and waited for you to wake up. He knew that he could be quite obsessive but there was something about you because Mickey never went through so much trouble just for some pussy.
Hours passed and you started to wake up, Mickey could see and he was excited about it. He could tell that you were starting to freak out.
“Hello?” Your voice was cracking, and Mickey couldn’t help but groan. He loved hearing you so helpless. “Is there anyone out there?” He could see that you were about to cry, Mickey knew he was fucked in the head, he was since a child but hearing you cry? Fuck, that making him incredibly hard. “Is my boyfriend alright?” Mickey groaned, you were worried about him? Fuck, he started palming himself through his trousers. “Please, don’t hurt him.” Tears were running down your cheeks and Mickey got his cock out and he started stroking it, while he could hear you cry, his strokes got quicker. “Please.” Mickey groaned, and his strokes got quicker. “Please, I’ll do anything.” He started massaging his balls and with the way you were begging? Mickey was going to cum anytime now. “Please.” Mickey came, hard. He got all of his trousers dirty, but it didn't matter.
Mickey didn't talk to you, he only gave you food. It has been days, you were going insane and every time you cried, he was jerking off. He decided to taunt you and got something he hasn’t used in years, the Ghostface voice modulator.
“Good morning, bunny.” The voice boomed across the bedroom and you were scared.
“Who are you?” You sounded almost happy to have a human interaction and Mickey could see how much you craved for it. “Are you going to kill me?” Tears started running down your face, you were so scared. “Where is Mickey?” Seeing how much you were worried about him, Mickey was enjoying every second of it.
“I could never kill you, if you must know someone wanted to kill you, I simply got in the way. This is for your protection.” You started yelling and crying so Mickey stopped talking, and you fell asleep after doing it for hours.
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It has been a whole month, Mickey could see it was getting to you, your mental state was very fragile and he knew this. So now it was time to show himself to you, next part of the plan. Mickey was sure Stockholm Syndrome would make you so malleable, perfect to be his perfect little doll. You were asleep when Mickey opened the door, he watched you for a few minutes, you looked so peaceful.
“Sweetheart, wake up.” He shook you, and you woke up. As soon as you saw Mickey, you started kissing him.
“Oh my God, are you okay? Mickey, I thought they killed you.” Mickey had a couple of fake bruises on his face, but he thought of something different now.
“How could they kill me when it’s my house, bunny?” He used the voice modulator and you just looked at him, but it was curious, you didn't stop touching Mickey.
“It was you?” You whispered, but your hands were still on Mickey and he was smirking at you.
“Of course, I couldn’t let them kill you, bunny.” Mickey started touching your face and you leaned into his touch.
“You love me?” You whispered, he could see the wheels turning in your head.
“Of course, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” After those words were uttered, you jumped on Mickey.
You started removing his shirt, you were wearing a silk nightgown and nothing underneath. Mickey started kissing you, it was all teeth and passion, he removed your nightgown and you removed his cock from his trousers.
“I need this, daddy.” You stradled him and aligned his cock at your entrance, Mickey couldn’t believe any of this. It was as if you were possessed.
Mickey put your nipple in his mouth, you were bouncing on his cock, he could feel how wet you were.
“Keep bouncing on my cock, bunny.” The two of you were on the floor, there was no time to get into bed. You were moaning and bouncing on his big and thick cock, your pussy felt like heaven for Mickey, he was never letting you go now.
“Fuck, daddy.” You screamed, and he could tell you were going to cum.
“Oh, I can tell you’re going to cum bunny. Come on, cum all over my cock little bunny.” He bit your left breast making you moan and then you pulled his hair and Mickey could feel you cumming around his cock.
You were exhausted, you put your head on his shoulder and Mickey started cumming inside you and you moaned. This was perfect, Mickey picked you up and put you on the bed. You started whining and he laid with you, and you laid on top of Mickey.
“I love you, never leave me.” After this, you fell asleep. Mickey smiled, this was way better than he ever imagined.
"Don't worry, bunny. You're mine now." He kissed your forehead and fell asleep as well.
#mickey altieri x reader#mickey altieri imagine#mickey altieri smut#mickey altieri x you#mickey altieri#slasher fanfiction#scream franchise#scream imagine#scream 2
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Black Americans have been demanding compensation and restitution for their suffering since the end of the Civil War. 40 Acres and a Mule remains the nation’s most famous attempt to provide some form of reparations for American slavery. Today, it is largely remembered as a broken promise and an abandoned step toward multiracial democracy. Less known is that the federal government actually did issue hundreds, perhaps thousands, of titles to specific plots of land between 4 and 40 acres. Freedmen and women built homes, established local governments, and farmed the land. But their utopia didn’t last long. After President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, his successor, Andrew Johnson, stripped property from formerly enslaved Black residents across the South and returned it to their past enslavers. Over the course of two and a half years, a team of Public Integrity reporters, editors, and researchers identified 1,250 Black men and women who had earned land as reparations after the Civil War. From there, the team conducted genealogical research to locate living descendants of many of those who had received and then lost the land. For the first time, these living Black Americans were made aware of the specific land that had been given to and then taken away from their ancestors. This project is an unprecedented and innovative use of Freedmen’s Bureau records—an impossible task for most of American history, until recent advances in genealogical research and the digitization of thousands of pages of Reconstruction-era documents made it feasible.
"Forty Acres and a Lie": incredible work in investigative journalism from Reveal
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Hey. Y'all wanna hear some crazy talk?
This will probably be the deadliest tornado season on record for the Bible Belt.
Texas is on fire with over a million acres burned. El Niño is on a weird downturn dropping blizzards across California and Colorado. Hot air plus cold air equals big boom. And that's just the science part of it.
CONTENT WARNING: mentions of Death, murder, natural disasters, related to hate crime, references to spiritual practices
The spiritual part of it? Asshole colonizers killed an all-black wearing two-spirit Choctaw kid in Owasso named Nex Benedict.
I'm not going to be surprised if tornadoes rip apart the bigoted governor's house. I'm not going to be surprised if Owasso is ripped off the map. I'm not going to be surprised if that one Senator has to deal with funeral after funeral and a state of emergency for the rest of his term. I'm not going to be shocked if the resultant economic downturn collapses the political power of the red states, and I'm not gonna be surprised if we get a second dust bowl outta this.
To top it off, there's a new twisters film in post production. The first twisters film came out during a weird spike in tornadoes as well. It's like the collective unconsciousness of the artistic/filmmaking world knows what's about to happen.
Now. I do not speak for all natives. As for myself, and some other natives - a tornado is not just hot air plus blizzard air. It's a person. It is an entity. We can talk to that entity, and it talks back. And my understanding was a lot of those entities wore black. A lot of those entities came with more than one spirit. It's possible to have a "family of tornadoes."
One little problem- someone just prematurely sent an all-black wearing Choctaw two-spirit back to the sky.
I don't even know them. I don't have any reason to believe that the spirit of that innocent kid might be vengeful about what happened. But I got a pretty good handle on what the ANCESTORS probably feel about that.
A kid like Nex is a gift. They can understand both sides of the gender divide, can solve problems and make medicine that no other type of person can. Owasso was blessed to have them around - if you believed in a great spirit then you'd know that the great spirit PERSONALLY sent that gift to your community. Rejecting Nex was an act of rejecting the great spirit.
Someone sent that gift back to the sky.
Don't be shocked if the sky is angry.
During certain crises, many natives believed that some ancestors went into the forests to turn into animals in order to feed the starving people when there's famine. Other spirits may go into the forest to become fire, and into the sky to become storms, when there's war. Currently, one million acres of spirit life just left for the sky - ancestral spirits no longer there to feed the people who are hungry, but who went to join the great spirit and the spirit warriors dressed in black on a warpath in the sky.
Over a million acres of Texas just burned. Smoke is how the ancestors carried prayers up to the sky where the great spirit resides. The sky is absolutely chock full of their angered prayer smoke, smokey spirits wearing black.
The sky kept telling me: This is a war. They killed the wrong kid. The ancestors will not listen to anyone who buries the hatchet this year - no true native would try to stop it from happening, because they would know the importance of the gift of a two-spirit in black clothes. They would know the importance of the gift of the animals in the forest that are their own kin relatives. They would know something is wrong, for all that to be in the sky at once, and they will know to take cover from it.
If you aren't familiar with a hatchet burying ritual, don't worry about it. It won't help you right now anyway. The sky has spoken, and believes that no one who is a true native would bury the hatchet in this instance. Man wearing black is out for blood. Move. Get out of its way. Get underground. The houses aren't safe.
It's going to be bad.
A note to natives wondering who tf I am - I don't claim to be part of a tribe but I have o-gah-pah and other tribal ancestry. Some of my non-native ancestors assisted john ross and john watts in hiding native children from the feds in white neighborhoods when shit got bad. You don't have to listen to me - listen to your own elders. Listen to your own wildlife. There are no birds in the photos of Texas wildfires for a reason. If you see them all flying the same direction, try to keep up.
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Anderson Bonner
Prominent Texas landowner and businessman Anderson Bonner was born enslaved in Alabama around 1839. Not much is known about his younger years. Family history states that Bonner was given as a wedding present to the daughter of his former master, who moved him from Alabama to Arkansas. Anderson may have been “refugeed” in Texas during the Civil War when nearly 100,000 enslaved people from neighboring states were forcibly brought there by slaveholders to avoid the Union Army freeing them as it gradually occupied more of the Confederacy. If Bonner was in Texas by 1865, he—like other Lone Star state enslaved people—gained his freedom when Union General Gordon Granger and Union Troops under his command arrived in Galveston on June 19, 1865 and pronounced the end of slavery. That announcement became the basis for the Juneteenth holiday.
Sometime in 1865 Bonner married a woman known only as Eliza. Over time the couple had ten children, Anderson Jr, Newton, William, Ed, John, Andy, Mary, Martha, Charlie and Nash. Bonner arrived in Dallas, Texas, around 1870 with his brother Louis, and sister Caroline and they worked on a farm in the White Rock Creek area. Bonner by this time had acquired modest wealth. The 1870 Census lists his financial worth at $275 or approximately $5,456 in 2020 dollars. On August 10, 1874 Bonner purchased sixty acres of land, signing the deed with an “X”, as he never learned to read or write. He soon began leasing his land and the houses on it to cotton growing sharecroppers. With the money he earned, he bought more land. Bonner eventually amassed over two thousand acres of land in what is now North Dallas and the Dallas suburb of Richardson. The Medical City Dallas Hospital now sits on what was once the Bonner farm and the North Central Expressway divides Bonner’s original property.
Census records in 1900 reveal that six of the ten Bonner children still lived on the Bonner farm. Cotton, corn, and fruits were grown on the family farm worked mostly by Bonner, his children, and sharecroppers. Bonner’s sister, Caroline married into the Fields family, and one of her children married into the Giddings family, both prominent African American families of Dallas in the late 19th Century. In 1903, Eliza was killed in a oil lamp explosion in the family home. Sixty-four-year-old Bonner then married a woman named Lucinda, but the couple had no children.
Anderson Bonner passed away at the age of 82 in 1920. He was buried in White Rock Colored Union Cemetery (now White Rock Garden of Memories Cemetery), in Addison county. His descendants established the Anderson Bonner Endowment Scholarship that helps support Richardson Public School students who attend Prairie View A&M University. The first public school for black children in the North Dallas, the Vickery and Hillcrest school was renamed the Anderson Bonner School before its closing in 1955. The city of Dallas officially named the park west of Medical City Hospital, Anderson Bonner Park in 1976. The park consists of 44.1 acres of Bonner’s original land.
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How genealogy is used to track Black family histories
Our names are important to us. They tell us who we are and often, who we come from. So imagine suddenly discovering the last name you’ve always carried… might not actually be the name you should have.
Alex Neason began looking into her family’s history after discovering her great grandfather’s name was different from what she believed for her whole life. In her search to discover the story of that last name, she enlisted genealogist Nicka Sewell-Smith.
For Black Americans, genealogy can fill in the blanks left by the legacy of slavery and racism in the U.S. Services like the Freedmen’s Bureau and Slave Voyages provide free access to records and documents to help with that search. We talk about the power of genealogy in fostering knowledge and connection for Black Americans.
Source
If you click on the word “source,” it’ll take you to the article where you’ll see a LISTEN button. It’s a 30-minute audio that discusses the info provided in the article even further. Y’all know I’m big on getting people to trace their lineage. All that “we don’t know where we come from.” Who told you that? Everything in the US is in plain sight. Everything.
Discover your fam.
I assist others when they reach a roadblock, like getting past the “1870 wall.” But you can’t beat the feeling of you discovering them on your own. Unearthing your history, seeing photos, reading stories that were stored, and saying their names that haven’t been said for centuries. I’ve been tracing mine (scanning, logging) since my family reunion in 2005 through oral family history and obituaries (those are records), and since 2011 through databases of US archived records like ancestry.com (purchased by BlackStone) and familysearch.org (free database owned by the Latter-day Saints Church). There are others, but those are the main two I use for comparative results.
Archiving Centers, Census Records & Other Records
There are archiving centers in every state and DC that also keep records for those particular states and the federal capital. There’s a footnote on all records that tells you where they are housed. And please...Don’t just do a simple pedigree chart of your family tree. Get to know your great-aunts, great-uncles and cousins. It’s also helpful for seeing who lived around who (fam often lived next door to each other) and puts more of the pieces together of your complete family story. You can see the land and acres they owned or your fam today still owns, as well as if that land was stolen from them.
US census records go back to year 1790. Depending on when or if your ancestors were enslaved or free: you’ll find them attached to slave logs that have been made available online or kept in archiving centers (you go there), or or they’ll be listed on census records as free persons (1790-1710), free colored male/female (1820-1840), Black (1850-1920), Mulatto (1850-1890, 1910-1920) or Negro (1900, 1930-1950). “New” census documents are put on sites, like ancestry.com, every 10 years. As of 2023, you can only trace from 1950 to 1790. The 1960 census will be out in 2030. How to trace from 1950 to today, birth, death and residential records. So again, depending on the census year, you’ll notice your ancestors racial classification change throughout documents for obvious reasons.
Keep in mind that the the largest slave trade for the United States was the domestic slave trade. In house human trafficking and selling (in addition to property insurance of enslaved people and the selling of enslaved people as the building block of Wall Street’s stock exchange) is how US capitalism was built. So just because you know a lot of your people are from Tennessee, for example, it doesn't mean that’s where that line stayed. I’ve found my ancestors throughout 7 states (so far). Another example, people with Louisiana roots damn near always have ancestors who were trafficked from early Virginia. Going beyond year 1790, records were kept in Christian and Catholic churches and old family history books so most of those documents are scanned online and/or still kept in the churches. I’m talking books books.
If your ancestors walked the Trail of Tears, or were caught as prisoners of war or trafficked to Indian Nations to be enslaved, you’ll find an Oklahoma Indian Territory and Oklahoma Freedmen Rolls section on ancestry.com. You can discover more info on sites, like the Oklahoma Historical Society. (Every state has its own historical society for archived genealogical records.)
Here’s the National Archives.
Also for Oklahoma, you may also find your ancestors in Indian Census Rolls (1855-1940) as [insert tribe] Freedmen, depending if they weren’t rejected through the “blood quantum” Dawes Rolls for not being the new light to white status. You’ll see their application and the listed questions & answers with or without a big void stamp. And on the census, you’ll even see the letter I (pronounced like eye) changed to the letter B. This is also for those in Louisiana.
Freedmen’s Bureau & Bank Records
There were Freedmen’s Bureau records and Freedman’s Savings Bank records in other states. To see if your ancestors had their records in those systems, you can search by their name. The state and age will pop up with people having that name. It’ll give you a wealth of other info, like all of the kids and other fam if they were present or mentioned to the person who logged that info in. With the Freedmen Bank records, you can see how much money your ancestors put in there (that was later stolen from them by way of the United States government), which is still there today. It’s the biggest bank heist in US history (that they try to keep hush hush) with the equivalence of more than $80 million in today’s value stored in there today. Back then, it was valued almost close to $4 million. Stolen wealth met with bootstrap lectures.
Here’s a short video on that heist:
youtube
Today the bank is called the Freedman's Bank Building, located right on Pennsylvania Ave. Plain sight.
Trace your lineage.
There’s a lot more that I can list. But this is just the basics. Like I said before, it’s a more rewarding feeling when you discover your ancestors by yourself. You may reach roadblocks. Take a break. Try going the “Card Catalog” route on ancestry.com’s search engine. Don’t skip the small details.
SN: Slave Voyages isn’t a genealogical site, but rather a database for slave ship logs and the estimates of purchased Africans who became human cargo to be enslaved by country like USA, or by colonizers like Spain, Great Britain, etc.
#black americans#genealogy#lineage#ancestry#census records#freedmen's bureau#freedman's bureau#freedmen's bank#freedman's bank#american heist
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Trust and Love - Chapter 9: Back on Tour
Tags: @nerdraging4point0 @thesazzb @synthetic-wasp-570 @circle-with-me @beaker1636 @itsjustemily @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @faceless-mirror @nonamessblog @yournecessaryevil @black-damask1999
@lyschko666 @vinyardmauro @skulliecadaver-blog @some-daniela @latenightmusiclover @rye14-blog1 @somewhere-diamond @Shilohrosechicken @abiomens @awkwardalex @rumoured-whispers @miss570
“So what did my dad want to say to you?” I asked as we were driving back to Vinny’s place. They both looked at each other and then back at the road.
“Nothing. Just more threats of if we didn’t protect you he would kill us.” Vinny mumbled. I raised my eye suspiciously but didn’t say anything. We got back to his place and all went inside where I immediately started cleaning up our forgotten breakfast dishes.
“Baby girl. Stop for a moment.” Ricky said taking the dishes from my hand and setting them back down.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Are you ok? You were literally held at gun point a couple of hours ago.” He murmured softly. I looked between him and Vinny who looked very concerned.
“Honestly? Yes. I promise. It was scary but he’s locked back up and I’m fine.” I admitted, surprised at the truth behind my words. I squirmed under their hard gazes for a second before Ricky nodded, finally deciding he believed me. “Love, I promise if I had any issues, I would tell one of you.”
“Ok. I’m just worried about you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed in content as his wrapped around my waist tightly. “I love you.”
“I love you.” I repeated. Vinny took me into the living room and we cuddled on the couch as he scrolled through Zillow to look at houses in the area.
“I was honestly surprised your parents were so ok with you having two boyfriends.” He mused.
“They are very open minded. I love them so much.” I clicked on a house that had four bedrooms and 5 bathrooms. “Hey, look at this one!” Each of the bedrooms had their own bathroom and there was a communal full on the main level too. The basement was already finished and actually had a perfect area to set up a soundproof recording booth for Ricky and Vinny’s instruments. Ricky sat on my other side and looked at the house.
“That gives each of us a bedroom for our own use too. I could have an office. Olive could set up a photography studio. Vinny could have a streaming room.” Ricky pointed out.
“Its on three acres too so neighbors wouldn’t be super close.”
“Its literally perfect.” Vinny mumbled.
“Book us a time to go see it.” Ricky said with no hesitation before leaving to finish up whatever he was doing in the kitchen.
“This is real. We’re really going to live together.” I whispered.
“Yes we are.”
~~~~
“Ready to be back on stage?” I asked Vinny. I was putting on his black makeup before the concert and he was a ball of nerves.
“Yes. I know it was only a month break but I’m so fucking excited.” He exclaimed.
“Motionless! Places.” The stage manager called. I set the sponge down and double checked that he was all covered.
“You’re good.” I nodded.
“You are amazing. Can I get a good luck kiss?” I rolled my eyes but pressed my lips to his.
“Go, I love you.”
“I love you too.” A hand touched my back and I turned to see Ricky walking by.
“Where’s my good luck kiss?” He rumbled. I leaned up and kissed him too. “Thank you, baby girl. I love you.”
“I love you too dork.” I watched the rest of the band file out.
“No pictures tonight, Olive! You’re watching from the pit.” Chris called as he walked off. I saw their head of security Tom smirk at me and tell me to follow him. He led me down to the barrier and put me just outside against the wall.
“Enjoy the show.” He called. This wasn’t discussed beforehand, so I was confused. I enjoyed the concert anyway. I nearly melted into a puddle during the parts where Ricky was singing because it felt like he was singing to my soul. A couple of the fans recognized me as Rickys girlfriend and asked for pictures which was cool but it wasn’t until the last few songs that I started really noticing something was up. Ryan and Justin came over at some point during the songs and made sure I specifically got a pick. During a part of the second to last song where there was no drums Vinny stepped down and gave me one of his drumsticks with a wink.
Finally during Eternally, as Chris was tossing his roses he whispered something to the security guard in front of me and pointed to me. The guard moved the barrier and pulled me back through leading me up to the stage. Chris had one rose left and he came over to me and took my hand, kissing the back of it before placing the rose in it. When he moved it was time for the soft part of the song where Ryan was the only one playing. I looked up to see Ricky walking towards me with his guitar dropped behind him and I gasped, finally putting together all the pieces. He took my free hand and kissed it before dropping to his knee.
“Olive, I know we haven’t been together for very long, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else. I’ve already asked your father and Vinny if it was ok that I do this. I love you so fucking much. Will you do me the honor of marrying me? Of becoming Mrs. Olson?” He opened a box that I hadn’t previously noticed to show me the most beautiful ring.
“Yes. Yes.” I cried, covering my face with my hands. He took my hands away and slipped the ring on my finger before pulling me into a deep kiss.
“I love you, Mrs. Olson.” He whispered into my ear. He led me off stage where Vinny was already waiting. The drummer pulled me into a hug of his own.
“Thank you.” I sniffled into his shoulder. “Go, you have to do your bows.” I shoved both of them towards the stage. Vinny pulled Ricky into a hug before both of them ran out to the crowd once more. Once they were all done Vinny and Ricky flanked me and pulled me into the green room.
“I couldn’t do this in front of the crowd because you are Rickys girl but I guess this is kind of my own proposal. I know we’ve been together for a month but it feels like so much longer. If you are interested, I would like you to be my wife in private. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.” Vinny pulled out a box to show me the ring he got. Rickys was a simple ring with a black stone in the middle and two diamonds on either side. Vinny’s ring was the exact same except it held a red stone instead.
“Yes you fucking dork.” I exclaimed. Ricky took the rings from me and held them out.
“These two are actually specially made. They are designed to lock together and make one ring.” He hooked them together and slid them on my finger once more. “That way there is no question about wearing two rings.”
“I love you two so much.” I sobbed, pulling both of them into a hug again.
“Congratulations Mrs. Olson-Mauro.” Chris teased when he entered the green room.
“Mmm. I like the sound of that.” Ricky mused.
“I second that.” Vinny grinned.
“If I could legally go by that I would.” I sighed happily, still unable to tear my eyes away from the rings.
“Well then at home, in our new house, you will officially be Mrs. Olson-Mauro.” I finally snapped away.
“New house?” Vinny handed me some papers and I read over them. “Our offer was accepted?!” I exclaimed.
“Yep. All that’s left to do is go sign the contract and we can move in.”
“Careful guys. I think you might overwhelm her with all this news.” Justin laughed.
“No, no. I’m good.” I whispered.
“Let us get changed and we can all go celebrate at the hotel. How does that sound?” Ricky whispered in my ear. I nodded and slumped onto the couch to watch them all remove their makeup and costumes.
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and we kissed as though nothing would fall: A Helion x Lady of Autumn Playlist
It's a great day for being sad! Here's Helion x Lady of Autumn for you.
Of all the novellas and backstories, I know we all want this the doomed affair that lasted for centuries, and resulted in our favorite fox boy. There has to be so much hurt and longing still lingering there. This playlist goes through the range of emotions that I thinkk this heartbreak brought upon both Helion and the LoA. But I wanted there to be hope too. That soft kind of hope that these two can come back together to each other where they belong.
Listen Here! Lyrical deep dive under the cut.
Special dedication to my favorite Helion x LoA besties @spell-cleavers and @ablogofsapphicpanic
I've added a second link to the playlist above, as it seems that it does not show up on the browser, just mobile.
The One That Got Away-The Civil Wars Got away from me Before anybody has to bleed
Oh, if I could go back in time When you only held me in my mind Just a longing gone without a trace Oh, I wish I'd never ever seen your face I wish you were the one I wish you were the one that got away
A Record Year for Rainfall-The Decemberists
What's the use of all of this? It's to remember you in the entire 'Cause I'm watching it slip away And in the annals of the empire Did it look this grey Before the fall?
Falling Slowly-The Swell Season
Falling slowly Eyes that know me And I can't go back And moods that take me And erase me And I'm painted black Well, you have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won
Samson-Regina Spektor
You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first, I loved you first Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth I have to go, I have to go Your hair was long when we first met
Beloved Wife-Natalie Merchant
My love is gone Now my suffering begins My love is gone Would it be wrong if I should Surrender all the joy in my life Go with her tonight?
Such Great Heights-Iron & Wine
I am thinking it's a sign That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned And I have to speculate That God himself did make us into corresponding shapes Like puzzle pieces from the clay
Skinny Love-Bon Iver
Come on, skinny love, just last the year Pour a little salt, we were never here My my my, my my my, my my Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer I tell my love to wreck it all Cut out all the ropes and let me fall My my my, my my my, my my Right in this moment, this order's tall
Hey Jupiter-Tori Amos
Sometimes I breathe you in And I know you know And sometimes you take a swim Found your writing on my wall If my heart’s soaking wet Boy, your boots can leave a mess
No Rest for the Wicked-Lykke Li
My one heart hurt another So only one life can't be enough Can you give me just another For that one who got away? Lonely I, I'm so alone now There'll be no rest for the wicked There's no song for the choir There's no hope for the weary If you let them win without a fight
No One's Gonna Love You-Band of Horses
Anything to make you smile You are the ever-living ghost of what once was I never want to hear you say That you'd be better off or you liked it that way And no one is ever gonna love you more than I do No one's gonna love you more than I do
I Need My Girl-The National
I am good, I am grounded Davy says that I look taller But I can't get my head around it I keep feeling smaller and smaller I need my girl I need my girl
Death With Dignity -Sufjan Stevens
Somewhere in the desert, there’s a forest And an acre before us But I don’t know where to begin But I don’t know where to begin Again, I've lost my strength completely, oh be near me Tired, old mare with the wind in your hair
The Greatest-Cat Power
Melt me down Into big black armor Leave no trace of grace Just in your honor Lower me down To culprit south
Heroes-David Bowie
Though nothing, nothing will keep us together We can beat them forever and ever Oh, we can be heroes, just for one day
And the shame was on the other side Oh, we can beat them forever and ever Then we can be heroes, just for one day
Taglist: @bookofmirth @bellatrixship @brieq @citruspearls @c-e-d-dreamer @damedechance @eyllweambassador @gaeleria @ofduskanddreams @highqueenmorrigan @hugeclearjellyfish @itsthedoodle @autumndreaming7 @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-has-a-mess @kingofsummer93 @lucienarcheron @octobers-veryown @andrigyn @mossytrashcan @witch-and-her-witcher @popjunkie42-blog @reverie-tales @rosanna-writer @separatist-apologist @secret-third-thing @lucienforhighking @thesistersarcheron @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @ultadverb @vulpes-fennec @velidewrites @vanserrass @wittyrejoinder @bagelfyre @xtaketwox @yazthebookish @wilde-knight @iftheshoef1tz @labellefleur-sauvage @carmasi @corcracrow @courtofthought @corvulpescompendium @tuzna-pesma-snova @cursebrkr @acourtdelaluna
Here is the link again. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/65pMS8WExB3Aywccg3CPn3?si=_R276WLATEWC9jUd1u4XWQ
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Thanks to Curieously for finding this 1920 (renovated) home in Ridgefield, Connecticut (I worked in a Ridgefield middle school when I lived in CT, and it's a gorgeous idyllic town). The home has 2bds, 4ba, and was the beloved home of the late songwriter, Jim Steinman. It is $3.950M b/c it comes completely furnished, art and all.
His estate's purpose is to preserve his legacy and they want the buyer to have everything and keep it in tact. Mr. Steinman wrote all the songs on Meat Loaf's "Bat Out of Hell" album & Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me," plus many recognizable songs.
Look at the balconies, ceiling and that gem sculpture- It comes with the house.
It also comes with the very piano that he wrote all those hit songs on.
Mr. Steinman spent $6M on the reno. Add the art collection and furnishings, and it far exceeds the asking price, but they want his legacy preserved.
The area above the living room.
In the family room, the gold & platinum records are on the wall. Very cool, right? Also, love the stoplight in the corner.
A cozy white kitchen with black counters is off the family room.
There's a cute little breakfast room.
And, a navy blue dining room with medieval chairs.
In the office is a beautiful desk with a model of the Titanic.
I'm not sure what this room off the office is.
This looks like a great room or great hall. I wonder if they're leaving his wheelchair. He'd had a bad stroke several years ago.
This rounded hallway is very cool.
The hallway looks almost like a railroad car.
The ceilings in this house. The primary bedroom is huge and look at the table in the middle.
The primary en-suite looks like it's 2 large room.
And, this is the 2nd bedroom. There are only 2 in the house.
Quite an unusual bath. Look at all the different materials and the blue sink.
It's a large, sprawling home and is on a 1.67 acre lot.
Pretty entrance.
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California’s Yurok Tribe, which had 90% of its territory taken from it during the gold rush of the mid-1800s, will be getting a slice of its land back to serve as a new gateway to Redwood national and state parks visited by 1 million people a year.
The Yurok will be the first Native people to manage tribal land with the National Park Service under a historic memorandum of understanding signed on Tuesday by the tribe, Redwood national and state parks and the non-profit Save the Redwoods League.
The agreement “starts the process of changing the narrative about how, by whom and for whom we steward natural lands”, Sam Hodder, president and CEO of Save the Redwoods League, said in a statement.
The return of the 125 acres (50 hectares) of land – named ’O Rew in the Yurok language – more than a century after it was stolen from California’s largest tribe is proof of the “sheer will and perseverance of the Yurok people”, said Rosie Clayburn, the tribe’s cultural resources director. “We kind of don’t give up.”
For the tribe, redwoods are considered living beings and traditionally only fallen trees have been used to build their homes and canoes.
“As the original stewards of this land, we look forward to working together with the Redwood national and state parks to manage it,” Clayburn said. “This is work that we’ve always done, and continued to fight for, but I feel like the rest of world is catching up right now and starting to see that Native people know how to manage this land the best.”
The property is at the heart of the tribe’s ancestral land and was taken in the 1800s to exploit its old-growth redwoods and other natural resources, the tribe said. Save the Redwoods League bought the property in 2013 and began working with the tribe and others to restore it.
Much of the property was paved over by a lumber operation that worked there for 50 years and also buried Prairie Creek, where salmon would swim upstream from the Pacific to spawn.
Plans for ’O Rew include a traditional Yurok village of redwood plank houses and a sweat house. There also will be a new visitor and cultural center displaying scores of sacred artefacts from deerskins to baskets that have been returned to the tribe from university and museum collections, Clayburn said.
It will add more than a mile (1.6km) of new trails, including a new segment of the California Coastal Trail, with interpretive exhibits. The trails will connect to many of the existing trails inside the parks, including to popular old-growth redwood groves.
The tribe had already been restoring salmon habitat for three years on the property, building a meandering stream channel, two connected ponds and about 20 acres (8 hectares) of floodplain while dismantling a defunct mill site. Crews also planted more than 50,000 native plants, including grass-like slough sedge, black cottonwood and coast redwood trees.
Salmon were once abundant in rivers and streams running through these redwood forests, But dams, logging, development and drought – due in part to the climate crisis – have destroyed the waterways and threatened many of these species. Last year, recreational and commercial king salmon fishing seasons were closed along much of the west coast due to near-record low numbers of the iconic fish returning to their spawning grounds.
The tribe will take ownership in 2026 of the land near the tiny northern California community of Orick in Humboldt county after restoration of a local tributary, Prairie Creek, is complete under the deal.
A growing Land Back movement has been returning Indigenous homelands to the descendants of those who lived there for millennia before European settlers arrived. That has seen Native American tribes taking a greater role in restoring rivers and lands to how they were before they were expropriated.
Last week, a 2.2-acre (0.9-hectare) parking lot was returned to the Ohlone people where they established the first human settlement beside San Francisco Bay 5,700 years ago. In 2022, more than 500 acres (200 hectares) of redwood forest on the Lost Coast were returned the InterTribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council, a group of 10 tribes.
The ’O Rew property represents just a tiny fraction of the more than 500,000 acres of the ancestral land of the Yurok, whose reservation straddles the lower 44 miles (70km) of the Klamath River. The Yurok tribe is also helping lead efforts in the largest dam removal project in US history along the California-Oregon border to restore the Klamath and boost the salmon population.
The Redwoods national park superintendent, Steve Mietz, praised the restoration of the area and its return to the tribe, saying it is “healing the land while healing the relationships among all the people who inhabit this magnificent forest”.
#excerpts#yurok tribe#national parks#California#environment#indigenous rights#tribal rights#land back#national park service#ecosystems#biodiversity#salmon
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Tobacco Growing in Alachua County
Record Group 30: Records of the Bureau of Public RoadsSeries: Historical Photograph FilesFile Unit: States - Florida
Original caption: Tobacco growing in Alachua County - Yields 1260 per acre - Sold for $0.34 average - near Gainesville, Florida - Photographed June 5, 1919. - by H.J. Morrow - Gainesville, Florida.
This black and white photograph is posted on a yellow card. It shows a field of tobacco plants. A group of men in white shirts and neckties stand among the plants.
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